


Charitable Sins

by AppalachianApologies



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Again its like cannon unresolved sexual tension, And poor Claire has to deal with it, Because that's my favorite episode and I sad fuck it i'm writing more like that, Gen, He's literally a mess, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Hurt Matt Murdock, Hurt/Comfort, Matt's a fucking mess in this, One Shot, Post-Episode s01e02, Pre-Slash, This is just an excuse for hurt Matt I'm not gonna lie to you guys, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Well its like a cannon pre-slash I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24129025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppalachianApologies/pseuds/AppalachianApologies
Summary: Matt finds himself bleeding in a dumpster.Again.Well, it's time to go back to Claire then.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Claire Temple
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Charitable Sins

**Author's Note:**

> Hey gang, first time writing in this fandom, so, wahoo. (Imagine that 'wahoo' as the noise you make in animal crossing when you catch another fucking sea bass).
> 
> Claire is admittedly one of my favorite characters, and I cherish the second episode like a first born child, so I decided to write this.
> 
> Happy reading!

The only reason Matt isn’t unconscious right now is because he refuses to be found in a dumpster.

Again.

Just because he landed in another one doesn’t mean that anyone has to know about it. 

The putrid scents lodge themselves in Matt’s nostrils, making moving both more difficult, and extra necessary. 

Matt knows what Stick would say in response, but he pushes that thought down along with his injuries. He’ll have time to deal with them later. Step one is get out of this fucking dumpster. 

Lifting himself and pulling himself up on the edge of the bin rips a silent scream out of the man. His brain tunes the rest of the world out. For a few seconds, all he hears, smells, tastes and touches is  _ pain. _

_ Pain. _

_ Pain, everywhere. _

But he’s stronger than this, he’s been in worse situations. Probably. 

He clenches his eyes shut, if nothing else than to just give him something to do, and a few arduous seconds later Matt’s escaped the nine circles of Dumpster. 

A car driving by reveals a forgotten fire escape, made of old metal with rust decorating the corners. Matt climbs up it, ankle throbbing in protest. His left hand holding is his insides in, right hanging onto the railing for dear life. He has to pull down an extra ladder to get to the roof, and even though that’s the last he wants to do, Matt jumps and grabs onto the lowest rung. 

Gravity does the rest of the work, and pulls down the ladder. However gravity does a bit too well for his standards. Matt’s groan is audible, and he can only hope that no one in the apartment complex hears it.

His ankle has gone from a dull throb to a pounding spasm. 

Almost instinctively, once Matt’s onto the roof his left hand goes straight back to his side, making a disgusting squeelsh.

His breath hitches, two inhales for only one exhale, and the world fizzes out of focus. 

Two more apartment buildings, that’s as far as he needs to go. Only two more roofs that will have new red dye. 

What would normally take him fifteen seconds, takes him nearly two minutes, and Stick is snickering in his mind. 

When he gets to the right building, Matt thanks God that the fire escape is connected to the roof, and begins to stumble down the iron steps. After the first flight, his foot slips on something he should’ve known was there, and he falls against the railing. 

The side of his head bounces off the metal and a cry escapes from his lips. It doesn’t help the chainsaw that’s currently going through his left side.

Matt can hear her heartbeat from here, he just has to get to the window. Two, no, three feet in front of him. He can do this.

It’s easier said than done when he can’t force his body to get up.

Somehow, he makes it the three feet, dragging his body with his right arm. Blood stains the fire escape, in a dirty and horrifying line towards the window.

Matt brings his arm up, and knocks. Once, twice.

He hears her footsteps and heartbeat before she even gets to the window.

He hears one last thing before he passes out. “Mike?”

**

Before Matt is fully conscious, he smells cat.

He smells kitty litter, and the remnants of a hairball. He smells cat fur and cat food, dry and wet. 

And then he feels everything all at once.

Matt sucks in a gulp of air, ignoring the pain in his side, his ankle, and nearly everywhere else. 

“Did you think that the first stab wound wasn’t good enough?”

Matt replies with an elegant, “Nggh,” And reaches up to his forehead, even though he knows that his “mask” isn’t there. 

Claire gently brings his hand back down to his side, and murmurs a few curses. “I’m not done yet, you gotta stop moving. Besides, I’ve seen your face before.” Claire sighs. “Unless you got knocked in the head and already forgot that.”

Matt lets out a huff of air. “How could I forget you?”

Claire chuckles in response, and hisses when she lifts more of his shirt up. “Do I even want to know what happened here? I’ve seen rainbows with less colors than this.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Matt says with a smile. He then feels around for something to prop himself up with. He smells old leather and touches wood barely covered with cotton and leather. A couch.

Just like old times.

He tries to sit up, and his mouth opens in a yell he forces back down.

Claire immediately sees what he’s attempting, and gently pushes him back down. “Mike, Mike, hey, stop.”

Matt lies back down, definitely on his own accord, not because he’s too weak to make it all the way up and definitely not because Claire’s gentle palm is stronger than his entire body at the moment.

Matt feels her breathing a second before he feels a sting on his forehead.

Oh. He doesn’t even remember getting cut there. That’ll be a pain to hide from Foggy and Karen. 

“Ng, Claire?” Matt asks, trying to sit up again.

“Stop trying to get up,” Claire chastises, keeping one hand on his head and the other on his chest. 

“What, what time is it?”

“Four-fucking-thirty in the morning.” Claire mutters, but there’s no malice in her reply.

Matt relaxes his muscles and nods weakly. “Mm. Good.”

A butterfly bandage is placed on his forehead. “Why? You got somewhere to be?” There’s a pause, and all Matt can hear is her breathing. “Tell me, what does a masked vigilante do in the day?”

“You’d be surprised,” Matt replies, internally cursing for giving more information about himself out.

“Ah, yes, because the rest of your life hasn’t surprised me at all.” Claire muses sarcastically. “Anyway, you won’t be going anywhere this morning. Unless it’s the hospital, but something tells me that’s out of the question.”

“No hospital,” Matt says, and Claire doesn’t even try to hide her sigh. 

“Yeah I figured.” There’s a pregnant pause before she adds, “I swear, those are the only two words in your vocabulary. You muttered them when you were half dead an hour ago.”

Matt doesn’t remember it, but it certainly sounds like him. 

Claire works in near silence as Matt tries to map out the apartment. His senses are less fuzzy, now that he’s been conscious for a few minutes, but they’re definitely not up to his normal standards. 

He gets a sudden whiff of copper.

“Oh, goddammit.” Claire grumbles, and Matt winces as a velcro pocket opens beside him. “I literally just finished stitching you up. She places a clean gauze on the wound on Matt’s side and brings Matt’s hand over hers.

Matt tries not to think about it.

“Hold this down, just for a second.” She mutters, and Matt complies. He presses down harder than necessary, the sting keeping his mind sharp. 

Claire hums, “Okay, lift,” Matt complies, and tenses when he feels the needle slip in his fragile skin. “Easy,” She soothes in response.

Matt lets his hand drift off the couch, still clutching the gauze. 

“So,” Claire begins, “Do I get to know how you got yourself nearly killed?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he answers, “I miscalculated how many knives one can have on one’s body.”

“Oh. Joy.”

The stitches are done soon enough, and Matt tugs his shirt down. He reaches for the back of the couch, and begins to pull himself up again.

Claire sighs. “Will you listen to me if I tell you to stop moving?”

All she gets is a weak smile in response. Knowing that it’s a losing battle, Claire helps him sit up, gently stabilizing his side. 

Matt clenches his eyes, and lets out a pained groan. Claire just sits and watches him. 

It’s a comfortable silence. 

...Which is why it can’t last. Matt’s never been lucky enough to be in any type of comfort. He carries too much guilt, he doesn’t deserve it. And so, as if on cue, his ankle makes itself known. 

Matt’s already put enough stress on Claire, he can’t continue to pile it on, which is why the next words out of his mouth are, “I need to leave.”

There’s only one pained groan in that sentence.

Matt doesn’t need to be able to see to know that Claire’s giving him an incredulous look, but he pivots his head down anyway. 

“I swear to god Mike, I’m going to tie you down until you heal. Better yet, I’ll just call an ambulance right here and right now. Sound good?”

Her heart says lie, but he’s not taking any chances. “No hospital,”

Matt hears Claire get up and leave, along with the grinding of her teeth, and the nitrile gloves snapping off. Claire’s heart rate slows down a bit, and he hears a sharp intake of breath, so Matt knows she’s going to ask him something before she questions, “Can I at least call anyone for you?”

Rather than answering, Matt just shakes his head.

“Great,” She mumbles, quiet enough that a normal person wouldn’t be able to hear. 

Claire washes her hands, and Matt focuses on that, trying to peel his mind away from his stinging body. He takes two deep breaths, and attempts to stand, before gracelessly falling back onto the couch, pain exploding ten fold. 

Claire is by his side in an instant, chastising and inquiring about pain. 

Matt breathes out an, “Ankle,” before he’s gently manhandled into a horizontal position once more. 

He knows that he’s stronger than this, he doesn't have time for some nurse to baby him. He knows the exact noise Stick would make in his head right now. He’s turned soft, weak, even worse than when he was ten, when vanilla ice cream was ruined.

Matt’s pulled from his thoughts when he feels a gentle hand on his face. “Mike. Listen to me, you have to go to a hospital. There’s nothing I can do for a broken bone.”

“‘S not broken,” Matt murmurs in response, listening to his own body.

Claire scoffs in response. “Excuse me? I didn’t realize that you were a fucking x-ray. You need to go to hospital. Now.” She adds on for extra measure.

A shake of a head. “No, it’s not broken. The, ngg, the ligament, it’s torn.”

“How the hell can you tell?” Claire whispers, and Matt can hear her heartbeat speed up again. When Matt doesn’t answer she questions again, “Mike, how the fuck can you know that your ankle isn’t broken?”

Matt doesn’t say anything, but Claire’s relentless. 

“Mike.”

She’s greeted with silence for a response.

“If you’re not going to answer, I’m taking you to a goddam hospital, because your ankle is swelling worse than a balloon.” Claire sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation with you. We’re going to a hospital.”  
Her heart tells the truth, and Matt tenses. “No hospital.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. You have a broken ankle, you need a cast.” She grumbles more, and through the pain Matt picks out, “little bastard,” and a few colorful curses.

Claire pulls him up by his shoulders, carefully navigating the bleeding and torn parts of his body. She’s intent on bringing him to the ER.

Finally Matt speaks up. “Stop. No hospital.” A pause, “I can hear it. There’s no rocks.”

Claire’s breath catches in her throat. “Are you delirious too now? Rocks?” She adds on softly, but makes no further moves to get him off the couch.

“Bones, ah, bones rub against each other when they’re broken. They sometimes sound like old ships, or rocks grinding against each other. There are different noises depending on the type of fracture.” Matt replies, wishing he had his mask on to hide behind. Or at least his glasses. He feels ridiculously exposed, so he opts for just turning his head down from Claire’s gaze.

Claire groans and plops down onto the floor next to him. There’s silence for a few moments, and Matt can hear Lilo and Stitch a few apartments down. “What the fuck.” Claire finally settles on, rubbing her hands against her face. Louder, Claire announces again. “What the fuck, Mike?”

Not knowing what else to say, Matt replies, “It’s not broken. Just swollen. Because of ligaments.” Between each choppy sentence Matt feels his breath catch because  _ goddam _ his body feels like it’s been through a meat grinder.

Claire ignores that comment and mutters, “You can hear someone three, no,  _ four _ stories down, and hit them with a fire extinguisher. You can fucking  _ smell _ someone downstairs, and now what? You can hear the insides of your body?”

Matt slowly nods.

“That’s fucking horrifying, Mike.” Matt makes a non-committal noise, and the two stay in silence for a few heavy moments. Eventually Claire breaks the silence. “So are you like one of those super powered people we’ve heard so much about? I’ve seen articles online,”

Matt doesn’t reply. She already knows too much about him.

“Mike?”

She’s already in danger, Matt continuously puts her in danger.

“Hey, Mike? You good?”

Maybe she has a right to know though. Maybe he owes this to her. Claire’s literally saved his life, she deserves to know, right?”

“Mike? Say something,” Matt hears her pull out her stethoscope.

Matt clears his throat before he feels the cool circle on his chest. 

He takes a deep breath in. “It’s Matt.”

“What?” She pauses, stethoscope still in hand.

“My name. Is Matt. And I got chemicals splashed in my eyes when I was nine."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also I want you guys to know that as I was uploading this a giant ass moth flew into my window and scared the shit out of me.
> 
> Okay that's all I hope you all enjoyed! :D


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